


Prove Me Wrong

by yikesmontana



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, KageHina - Freeform, M/M, No Volleyball, Non-Canonical Character Death, Some sort of AU, i dont know what to call it, i love them together, suicide i guess???, they don't know each other yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesmontana/pseuds/yikesmontana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So won't you come around, and prove me wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prove Me Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song by Tyler Joseph 
> 
> this is my first time doing a certain thingy so sorry if it's hard to understand  
> constructive criticism is always appreciated !!!

_“You don’t know me,_  
_And I don’t know you._  
_Tell me what should I_  
_Do, oh.”_

My life was painfully black and white.  
I went through my daily routines without emotion. I’d learned a long time ago that emotion only made my sorry excuse of a life harder.  
I wasn't anything special. Flat black hair. Dull grey eyes. Tall. Moderately thin. The personality of a rotting tomato. I was shockingly unremarkable.  
The exact opposite of _him_.  
He was short, for an eleventh-grade boy. His rustic orange hair was wild, always unruly and bright, framing his sharp-framed face. Freckles dashed across his little button nose and over his rosy cheeks. Wide amber eyes glimmered when he would speak, his small pink lips racing as he rambled about everything, his voice smooth and animated. He was my sunshine.  
I never talked to him, of course. Even if I had the courage to talk to Hinata Shouyou, he was always around different people. They flocked to him like moths to a flame.  
I wasn't worthy. I was the moon, hopelessly chasing after the warmth of the sun but never getting close.  
I suppose my mother didn't help the situation. I was accidentally conceived when she was only fifteen. Now thirty-two, she still decided to blame me for my father leaving. I was never really her son; the drugs and alcohol were.  
She got her high from whatever she could get her hands on. Her neglect, mixed with my lack of social skills, led to my current depressed state. Actually, two years ago, I went as far as trying to kill myself. To my complete disappointment, it didn't work. Obviously. My mom never did anything to help me, either. She just called me stupid for it and left again. During the rare occurrences she was at our home, she was either passed out or doped up.  
We lived in a depressingly small apartment, in the “bad end” of town. The apartment was honestly sad; bare, dirty walls, stained from years of smoke; a broken couch, missing a cushion; a cracked, square T.V; a filthy oven and fridge, just hardly working still; my bedroom, more like a closet, with nothing but a creaking dresser and mattress as a bed; and her bedroom, usually unoccupied. Sirens and cars were the soundtrack of our lives, alongside the occasional thumping of our neighbours. I paid for most of the costs, Mom spending her disability checks on booze and drugs.  
School was my escape, surprisingly enough. There, I could pretend things were normal. Nobody talked to me, but I didn't mind. I’d probably snap at them if they did, anyway.  
After school, I worked at a small restaurant. It didn't have much more than coffee, pastries and salads, though. It was small, but the pay was decent enough to keep me going.  
It was there that our story began.

He was just sitting there, holding the slightly beat up menu in front of his face, cross-legged on the chair. Outside, the sun was blazing, making me thankful for the AC.  
“W-Welcome, what can I get you?” I asked, trying to keep the usual rough edge out of my voice and stuttering instead. Hinata looked up curiously, molten eyes seeming to melt right through me. He smiled suddenly, wide and radiating happiness.  
“You’re Kageyama Tobio, right? I’ve seen you around school! I’ve never really been brave enough to talk to you, dude- you’re kind of intimidating, and I thought you hated me or something,” he rambled, flushing after he was done. “N-Not like you’re scary or anything! Ohmygod.” Hinata buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter. I blinked a few times, mouth open in shock. He was talking to me. He was laughing. He was embarrassed.  
“No, I- I, um,” I fumbled lamely.  
“Hey, do you want to sit with me for a bit?” Hinata wondered, tilting his head slightly to the side. It was just a normal question on his part; he was just that type of person, the one who could talk to anybody. But this was the first time that anyone had showed a genuine interest in me.  
Anyone else, I would have said no. I would have scoffed at them and refused. But with Hinata, I let out a small huff, rolling my eyes.  
“My shift ends in ten minutes. You can wait here,” I informed him. Hinata smiled brightly, nodding enthusiastically.

After my shift, Hinata and I talked.  
And talked.  
And talked.  
I found out that he lived with his mom, who was busy but kind. He liked his coffee loaded with cream and sugar, unsurprisingly. He loved playing volleyball, but never really got the motivation to play it. His favourite colour was blue, he hated fish, and his favourite subject was art. By the time our conversation died down, the sun was setting outside, streaking the sky with orange and red hues. The dying light filtered through the window, illuminating the dips and curves of Hinata's’s face. He was like porcelain, his skin unblemished and smooth, creamy-looking and perfect. He yawned suddenly, stretching his small body out, relieving his tense muscles.  
“Go, if you're tired, dumbass,” I told him, no longer a fumbling mess. Hinata stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.  
“No, Bakageyama! I don't want to leave,” he sighed. My heart seemed to thump louder in my chest.  
He didn’t want to leave.  
“Talk to me at school tomorrow, okay? You seem cool. I wanna get to know you more,” he chirped, sending me a small wave and a blinding grin as he slid out of the booth. I felt a blush spreading over my cheeks, and a small smile curving my lips.  
And for once, I felt something other than numbness.

_“Won’t walk the world_  
_Any different_  
_And my path won’t change until you_  
_Make a wall and make me fall_  
_And break me down.”_

True to his word, Hinata started talking to me at school. Naturally, his normal crowd shrunk away whenever he called out to me, leaving the two of us mostly alone. And though I loved spending time with him, I couldn’t help but feel like I was dulling his light. I was that type of person; menacing and intimidating and negative. I couldn't compare to Hinata’s unbreakable positivity.  
I tried distancing myself from him. I avoided his table when he'd come to the restaurant; I kept away from him at school; I yelled at him whenever he was around me. But none of that stopped Hinata. He continued seeking me out, laughing at my insults, slinging his own remarks my way. He was unshakable.  
So, three weeks into our friendship, I voiced my concerns.  
It was early autumn, the leaves on the trees just beginning to fall gently to the ground. A small breeze rustled the trees, creating small tornadoes of reds, browns and oranges. It was after school, so people were swarming all around us, in a rush to get home. Hinata was bounding ahead, rambling on about some new video game, flailing his hands excitedly, furrowing his brow whenever he needed to search for a word. As we neared the park, the overwhelming amount of students dwindled down, much to my relief. Hinata and I settled down on top of the slide, the way little kids always wished that they could, overlooking the small forested area. There was a few children running around, giggling in some sort of game. Hinata was swishing his legs over the side, humming absent-mindedly, watching the children play with a content smile on his face. The silence was calming between us, pleasant and warm, which made it all the more difficult for me to force the insecure words out of my throat.  
“Hinata, I… I don’t think you should spend so much time with me,” I blurted, feeling fear tighten my chest. I was going to be alone again. Alone.  
But it was for the best, right? I’d rather be alone than see Hinata upset.  
Hinata’s face fell, amber eyes capturing mine. He looked confused, doing that small head tilt that I’d learned to love.  
“Did I do something wrong? I know I can be really clingy, but-” he started nervously, and I cut him off quickly.  
“No! No, you idiot, it’s just… your friends haven’t been around as much lately, and I can’t help but feel responsible,” I sighed, feeling compelled to keep looking at his distraught face. Hinata laughed suddenly, eyes sparkling once again, a small blush rising on his cheeks.  
“Bakageyama! They’re not around much because of something I did. It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” he giggled. Shock sent a shiver down my spine, making my heart beat faster.  
“Wait, what… what did you do?” I asked. Hinata’s face fell again, and he shuffled around nervously. When he put another smile on his face, it wasn't the same. It was brittle, fraying around the edges, his lips shaking slightly. It made me uneasy, seeing Hinata like that.  
“I, uh. Came out?” he said, sounding like a question. I choked on air, stiffening my shoulders in surprise.  
“You’re gay?” I half-gasped. He was obviously unsettled, shifting his position so that he hugged his knees to his chest.  
“Bi, actually, but yeah. They, um, didn’t take it very well- said that I made them uncomfortable now,” he mumbled. I frowned, a small ball of anger coiling in my stomach. In a fit of bravery, I hesitantly took Hinata’s delicate, trembling hand in my own. He jumped slightly, turning to look at me with wide eyes.  
“Well, then, they were never your friends anyways,” I grunted in a sad attempt to comfort him. I’d never had to comfort anyone before, nor was I ever comforted, so I was basically clueless on what to do when Hinata’s eyes moistened with tears. He smiled timidly, but it fell as he kept thinking. He did that head tilt again, his puffy orange hair bouncing slightly as he shifted.  
“You’re not…freaked out?” he asked shyly, not meeting my eyes and scrubbing at his face ferociously.  
“I’d be a hypocrite if I was,” I snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. His already rosy cheeks flushed further, and he glanced away in embarrassment.  
“O-Oh! That’s, uh, good,” he stuttered. "So, you're, like, you-"  
"Words, Hinata," I snapped. Hinata smacked my arm.  
"So you're bi too?" he finally managed to ask. I shook my head.  
"Nope, just gay," I admitted. Hinata nodded.  
"Right. Yeah. Of course. Good," he rambled. I glared at him, and he shut up.  
We sat there, as the sun went down, shivering together in the autumn chill. In utter stubbornness, neither of us felt like separating, instead enjoying each other’s company. Streaks of yellow, red and orange blended with the natural blues of the sky, contrasting together beautifully. I looked over at Hinata, the shadows silhouetting his face nicely. Red sprinkled over his nose, cheeks and ears from the cold. He scrunched his nose up suddenly and let out a quiet squeak-like sneeze, shaking his head after as if it dazed him. Grumbling, I unlooped my scarf from around my neck and wrapped it around Hinata’s roughly. He jumped slightly, looking over at me with wide eyes. His eyelashes fluttered every time he blinked, dancing across his cheeks gently, complimenting the spread-out, almost invisible freckles. I felt myself blushing and looked away, but I didn’t miss the flustered grin on his face.  
"Aw, Kageyama, so you do have a heart," he teased.  
By the time we finally parted ways, I was practically vibrating with contentment. Nothing could bring down my mood. Not the annoying shouting from the neighbor’s houses. Not the annoying kids who yelled at me on the way home, slurring every insult possible at me and laughing with each other. Not my mother, half-conscious on the floor. Not even when she snapped at me to help her to bed. Not even when she made a weak attempt to hit me, snarling crude words as she faded into sleep.  
For once, I went to bed happy.

_“Cause I believe in love_  
_And I hope I can show you why I am here_  
_And I don’t believe love’s for me_  
_So won’t you come around and prove me wrong.”_

Autumn shifted into winter in the blink of an eye. Light jackets and scarves changed to puffy coats and hats, and people began decorating for Christmas. Hinata and I had been talking for three months now, and I was the happiest I could ever remember being. For once, I felt wanted. I felt needed, appreciated.  
I felt whole.  
I didn’t cry myself to sleep in a pile of self-pity anymore. My mom seemed to notice; she laid off the insults, sticking to pointed glares and occasional tantrums.  
I was actually living my life.  
Hinata visited me whenever I was working, laughing with me and ordering coffees, which furthered his overexcitement even more. I became more comfortable around him, telling him things that I’d never found myself telling anyone else. When I’d start to shy away again, Hinata would urge me on, reassuring me that everything was okay, and that he was there. It made me feel appreciated. It made me feel wanted. I’d never felt that feeling before; I was never able to make friends, and I didn’t have any family. I had a cat, once, when I was around ten. It was a stray; I brought it home, without my mother’s permission, and cared for it. Being naïve, lonely and young as I was, I ended up loving this tiny kitten. I bathed it, and fed it part of my dinner, and let it drink from a tiny bowl of water. Eventually, mom noticed, and drowned the cat in the sink. After that incident, I vowed to never let anything close again.  
In school that day, snow began to fall, lightly drifting to the ground in small tufts. Everyone in the school was buzzing, waiting anxiously for the final bell to ring. It did, finally, and I met Hinata at his locker, our usual meeting place. When I arrived, he was tapping his leg impatiently, bouncing up and down while pulling on his beanie. It was bright, apple-green, barely restraining his wild locks of hair. Deep orange spirals poked out of the sides, untamable.  
“Bakageyama! Look, look, look, it’s snow!” he giggled. I felt a warm rush of affection spread through my chest.  
“I’m not blind, dumbass” I teased, giving him a 'duh' look. He stuck out his tongue playfully, smacking my shoulder lightly. Hinata stomped one of his winter boots.  
“You’re not looking,” he whined, pointing out the small door window. Outside, past the mobs of rushed teenagers, I could see the snow drifting to the ground. Hinata shoved ahead of me, bouncing like a hyperactive puppy. We walked in a comfortable silence to our park, Hinata humming lightly, filling the silence with occasional one-sided conversation. When we arrived, we found out that we could not, in fact, sit on the slide while it was layered in snow. I unfortunately paid the price, grumbling quietly as I rubbed my sore elbow. Hinata was howling with laughter  
"You should have seen your face, Kageyama! You went all 'pwah' and 'bam,'" Hinata told me, and I glared at him, squeezing his head  
For a while, I worked on my homework, and Hinata played idly on his phone. Out of nowhere, he suddenly bumped his head on my shoulder.  
“Thanks, y’know,” he muttered into the fabric of my coat. I glanced down at him, only getting a face full of his hat and hair.  
“For what?” I wondered, genuinely confused. Hinata rested his chin on my shoulder, looking up at me with soft eyes. Up this close, I could see the light lashes again, the way his freckles scattered not only across his cheeks but down his neck too. I could see the way small shards of deep, chocolaty brown merged with the amber in his eyes, lining the pupils lightly.  
“For staying with me,” he half-whispered, blushing. “I dunno, just. Thanks.” I snorted, bringing a hand up to flick his nose.  
“I should be the one thanking you. Even before we started talking, you…made me happy,” I coughed out, looking away with a huff. Hinata giggled, his face bunching up and eyes squinting, the way he usually does when he’s trying to force happiness.  
“I’m glad. Have things been…okay?” he asked, his voice oozing concern. Hinata knew about my home conditions, a necessary confession to explain why he couldn’t come to my house. He was always sympathetic, asking if I was alright nearly daily.  
“Yeah. She hasn’t been home recently, but I don’t mind,” I sighed. Hinata gave me a soft smile before glancing away. He let out a long breath, turning so that his cheek rested on my shoulder again. A pang of worry sounded in my chest. He was never usually like this; in our friendship, there weren’t many silences. Hinata was moving around, or humming, or saying all the words that I never could. Or we were bickering.The absence of Hinata's’s voice made me uneasy.  
“What about you?” I said cautiously, bringing a hand up to rub soothing circles on the back of his head, just under where his beanie ended. I felt his body stiffen at the contact before relaxing and shrugging, his coat brushing against mine loudly.  
“Not…great. I-I failed a math test, and I’m planning. Uh. To come out. To my parents. Soon,” he choked out, obviously distressed. My hand paused for a minute before continuing.  
“Hinata,” I murmured, voice hard, shifting slightly. He looked up curiously, eyes slightly reddened, doing that head tilt again.  
And there, on that cold park bench, we had our first kiss.

We kept our relationship a secret, obviously. Hinata was starting to get picked on at school, and he didn’t want me to get harassed too, which made me laugh. He didn’t seem affected by it, though; in fact, we were both giddy, intoxicated with love.  
The snow thickened, becoming almost ankle deep. It was packing snow, the kind that made the ever-annoying crunching sound when stepped on. Hinata had a passionate love for winter, which I found ironic, since he seemed to be the human reincarnation of sunlight and warmth.  
“No, seriously. Even when I was a kid, my parents would always complain because I’d get sick in winter from spending so much time outside. I’d build forts and snowmen and stuff,” he laughed. I scrunched up my nose, rubbing my freezing hands together. Our park bench- which I’d recently been referring to as “ours” because there was never anyone here- wasn’t the warmest.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever built a snowman,” I admitted through my scarf. Hinata gasped dramatically, jumping up and waving his arms frantically. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, digging through my backpack to find my mitts.  
“Are you having a stroke?” I asked, slightly alarmed by his sharp squawking.  
“You! You’ve never built a snowman?! That’s like…like…like a basic memory that everyone should have! You’re missing the entire foundation of winter!” Hinata yelled, jumping around and waving his arms at me as if to exaggerate his point more. I huffed at him, pulling my mittens onto my hands.  
“I just never really got to it,” I shrugged. Hinata let out another enraged noise, grabbing my wrist and tugging me off our bench.  
“Okay, that’s it. Right here, right now, I’m going to make you relive your childhood. Don’t even argue with me, Bakageyama. I won’t take it,” he huffed, letting go of my arm abruptly and squatting to start making the first snowball. I raised an eyebrow but followed his lead anyway, patting at the snow. Hinata scoffed at my sad attempt at making a snowball, showing me the “proper technique.”  
Twenty minutes later, we stood with our hands on our hips, admiring our work.  
The snowman was horribly lopsided, the snowballs lumpy and falling apart. The sticks we used as arms were extremely uneven, and its face was crooked. I winced, looking over at Hinata, who was beaming.  
“It’s phenomenal! Best snowman I’ve ever made!” he yelled out triumphantly. I snorted at him, shoving my hands in the pocket of my coat.  
“I’d hate to see your other ones,” I mumbled, earning myself a smack from Hinata. When I looked over at him, though, he was restraining his laughter, his cheeks and nose red from the cold.  
I decided that even though it technically didn’t count, this was the best childhood memory I’d ever had.

_“I don’t know_  
_Where I’m supposed to go_  
_So I might just_  
_Take my pride and go”_

Four weeks and one day into our relationship, he decided to finally come out to his parents.  
“Tonight, Kageyama. Really, I’ll do it tonight,” he kept saying, jittery and nervous. I reassured him one final time as we parted ways.  
“I’ll call you when it’s over,” he told me, smiling brightly and pecking me on the nose.  
“You’ll do great,” I sighed into his hair, and we both went home.

_“I don't know, no, I don't know_  
_If I wrote this song in vain_  
_Vain, in vain, vain.”_

My mom was extra mean that night. She went as far as throwing her tequila bottle at me, leaving me to clean the shards with tears threatening to spill. I went to bed upset, curling into myself, trying to ignore Mom’s violent gags in the other room as she came down from her high. For three hours, I lay there, phone clutched tightly in my hands. I don’t remember what time I fell asleep, but I do remember the phone call at 1AM, startling me out of restless slumber. I fumbled around for my phone, answering with a groggy, “hello?” The shaky, distraught voice on the other end woke me immediately.  
“H-Hey, Kageyama. Um, m-my parents got kinda mad, and, uh, I’m walking around the park and I just want to see you,” he sniffled. I was already out of bed, wiggling into clothes frantically and promising to meet him at the park. My mom was passed out, making my departure easy. I started towards the park in a brisk jog, the only sounds in the cool night being my laboured breaths and the distant pounding of bass at some house party.  
I slowed to a walk when I neared the park, relief washing over me when I saw Hinata, slouched over, hands in his pockets. He was kicking at the snow aimlessly; his jacket was absent, only in running shoes, probably from rushing out of the house.  
“Hinata!” I called out, my heart constricting when I saw his face. His eyes and cheeks were puffy and red, partially from the cold and partially from his state of mind. I’d never seen him look so distraught. He smiled weakly at the sight of me, starting forward, jumping off the curb and onto the street.  
He didn’t see the wildly swerving truck, speeding around the corner.  
I did.  
And then suddenly, I was seeing a scene from awhile ago. It was springtime still. Hinata was sitting across from me, crouched on the picnic table. His ice cream cone was melting all over his hand, and he was laughing, flicking the excess treat at me. His hair bounced slightly in the crisp wind, and shivers wracked his body. I’d told him that it was too cold for ice cream, but he insisted that we get it.

_Tires screeched, and the smell of gasoline clogged my nose._

Hinata was giggling as he pet some lady’s dog. The fluffy animal was sniffing his hand, yipping excitedly at the attention. Hinata fell on his butt when the dog leaped onto his lap, licking at his face and pawing his chest.  
“Kageyama, look!” Hinata was saying, looking up at me expectantly, his childish grin nearly splitting his cheeks.

_“Kageyama, help!”_

Hinata was squeezing his way into a kid’s swing, struggling to squish his legs in the holes provided. He had bet me that he could, in fact, fit into it. When he got stuck, he pouted at me, sticking out his lower lip.

_Blood spilled out of his lips, rolling down his chin._

Hinata frowned at my cold hands, shedding one of his mittens to give to me and grasping both our bare hands together. His hand was tiny, calloused and warm. He gave me a reassuring squeeze, smiling broadly up at me.

_His hand gripped mine weakly, slick with blood, his grasp slowly getting weaker._

Hinata and I were sitting close together, side-by-side in the mall, closer than friends should be. He was tracing tiny circles on my hand, humming absent-mindedly as we waited for his mother to pick him up. A baby wailed somewhere near us, and we both jumped, laughing afterwards.

_Ambulance sirens wailed somewhere in the distance, still too far away._

The snowball hit me directly in the face, almost knocking me over. Hinata was snickering from below me, his own face cold from my attacks. The snow on my face melted, dripping down my face as I prepared another snowball.

_Tears leaked down my face, landing on his, streaking through the blood on his cheeks._

“I love you, Kageyama,” Hinata laughed, leaning up to kiss my nose gently with a radiant smile on his face.

_“…love you,” he muttered weakly, giving me a sad smile covered in blood. So, so much blood; blood was everywhere, turning the snow red, sticking his locks to his face._

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, Bakageyama? Don’t miss me too much!” Hinata called out, jumping and waving his arms as he ran off.

_Hinata’s weak gasps stilled, and he stopped moving entirely._

  
I’d thought that the saddest point in my life was two years ago. I’d thought, back then, that I’d felt all of the pain that someone could possibly feel. But this, this was a whole new level of torture. This was crippling me, making me want to hit something and gag and cry and scream until my lungs burst. I wanted him to be okay. I wanted to see his smile again, to hear him giggle, to feel his body next to mine.  
Instead, he was slowly fading away, leaving me alone. My sunshine.  
I didn’t deserve him.  
Nobody deserved him.  
I’d thought that my life was painfully black and white. But when Hinata was introduced, colour was too. Because of him, I witnessed how beautiful everything can be. He opened my eyes.  
And now, his were closing.

Seven hours.  
For seven hours, I sat in the bland waiting room, head buried in my hands. His blood was still layered up and down my arms, a painful reminder of where I was, and what was happening. Just as I thought I was about to snap, a doctor walked in, pulling bloodstained gloves off his hands. He was a younger man, in his mid-thirties, with fashionably silver hair, and a noticeable mole on his face.  
“I’m…terribly sorry, but the injuries were too extensive. With the amount of trauma to the head, his brain is damaged beyond repair. He’s alive, somewhat, but he’s unresponsive, and will most likely stay that way. We call it a vegetative state. He’s on life support, but we’ll…” the doctor carried on, but I stopped listening.  
Vegetative state.  
Life support.  
My fault, my fault, _my fault._  
“…can see him now, but be warned that he isn’t in a conscious state,” the doctor finished.  
I could have saved him.  
What happened?  
_Why didn’t I save him?_  
His mom took off right away, but I lingered back. I wasn’t able to see him while his mom was right there, cursing that drunk driver, cursing me, cursing themselves.  
I bolted out of the hospital, making my way down the winding hallways, unable to breathe in the scent of medicine any longer. Outside, I fell to my knees, a sob finally tearing out of my body. My knees numbed automatically from the snow, but I didn’t care.  
He was gone.  
I should have known that this would happen. That my newfound light would fizz out in a matter of months. That somehow, life would manage to ruin things for me.  
It always did, didn’t it? Because that’s what life was. It was filthy and miserable and deceiving. Happiness was only an illusion that we created to make us forget about the tragedy and the heartbreak. I felt bitterness rising in my throat, choking me and taking away my willpower.  
More than any of that, I felt despair for Hinata.  
He wouldn’t get to grow up. He wouldn’t get married, wouldn’t have kids, wouldn’t live his life. He wouldn’t be able to do any of that.  
He was gone. Forever.  
Just like that.  
With another loud sob, I slammed my fists into the ground, my body unwilling to move.  
And I knew what I had to do.

It wasn’t until the next night that I visited the hospital room, backpack slung over one shoulder. I treaded lightly, as if not to wake him.  
I knew, in the back of my brain, that he wouldn’t.  
Machines were hooked up to him all over, poking into his once-smooth skin. It was dim, the florescent overhead lights making his deathly pale skin shine. The bruises and cuts littering his body stood out, like purple, black and green paint splatters on a canvas. Bandages were wrapped tightly all over his body, stained through with dried blood. The only sounds in the room were the hissing of the ventilators and the beeping of the monitors.  
He looked so small, so broken, lying in that bed with nothing but machines keeping him alive. I smiled lightly, pulling a chair up next to the bed and grasping his hand lightly. It was as smooth as I remembered, despite the circumstance.  
“Hi,” I whispered, feeling eerie in the silent room. “So, I… I know that you’re supposed to be brain dead, but I have some things to tell you still. I just wanted to… to thank you. For loving me. I never thought anyone would. I knew that people do love, and I knew that it happened all around me, but… but I didn’t think I would get to experience it, let alone have someone love me. Let alone a perfect idiot like you. I never did get to say it to you, y’know? I love you, Hinata. I love you, I’m sorry, I love you,” I sobbed, resting my forehead to his. He didn’t move. I kept expecting him to tilt his head up, to feel his hand rubbing my back, but I never did. He didn’t move.  
With a deep breath, I pulled back slightly, just enough to press my lips gently to his. They were cold and parched, so unlike what I was used to.  
“You were the only thing keeping me alive,” I muttered, standing up and digging through my backpack. “Keeping me hopeful. I tried to kill myself, two years ago. It didn’t work, obviously, but I never stopped thinking about it. Just taking pills. Someone found me, though. They saved me. And I’m glad they did, now. Because I got to experience love. I got to experience you. You proved me wrong, Hinata. And I’m so happy that you did. But you’re gone now. I’ll never hear your voice, or your laugh, or your snores that I always complained about.  
I stopped thinking about killing myself, once I discovered how wonderful other people could be. I stopped wallowing in my own loneliness. I laughed and made memories. They’re not worth anything without you here. You were what I lived for, Hinata. But now…”

_"I’m glad you came around, and proved me wrong."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> ((this totally wasn't for an english project))


End file.
